The Night Mother's Rise and Zamorak's Demise
by Galaxy-Monarch Frosty10001
Summary: Dark-Heart, a Dark Brotherhood assassin get's transported unknowingly with the help of the Night Mother to overthrow the self-proclaimed God of chaos Zamorak in the realm of Gielinor. Zaros ultimately stops this invasion, but... How?
1. Auravinc Othlin

**Okay, first disclaimers.. Just to be on the safe side, I don't want to be sued, I don't have money! =\**

**The Elder Scrolls series are owned by Bethesda Soft works, and RuneScape is owned by Jagex ltd.**

**Now, on with the story!!**

* * *

"Sithis... He calls out to thee, Auravinc Othlin! He beckons you, and you will visit him!" A pitch-black hooded assassin softly exclaimed in a low, remorseless tone.

"! You're- - You're the D-Dark Brotherhood! HE- -!!" The man couldn't finish his sentence; he was stabbed through the heart, his lifeless old corpse collapsed to the bare, bone-chilling crackling floorboard. His tan robes splattered and engulfed with human blood. The smell, a familiar scent to the Argonian Silencer was very.. Pleasing. The bloody aroma made its journey to the lizard-man's nose; he pleasurably inhaled it and created an emotion far beyond the enjoyment of killing mercilessly.

The Argonian had dark crimson scales and shades of black, very unusual for an Argonian. He was cloaked with Shadowleather and a frightening tattoo on his neck which read: "Dark-Heart" with the Night Mother glaring behind the relentless name of his. He wielded a curved dagger; it was now sheathed in its scabbard attached to the Argonian's apparel. His way of thinking was to live, or to die.

Dark-Heart glanced at the deceased Breton's hand, it intrigued him to discover that the arm was glowing with a bright, blinding cyan color; it appeared to be magicka. He frowned, unsure of whether the human was alive, or his magicka was resisting to die just as its bearer. He stood there, thoughtless, hesitant on what to do or think.

Suddenly, the Breton carefully opened his previously-thought dead eyes and fiercely squinted toward Dark-Heart. His arm, in less than a nanosecond grabbed Dark-Heart's right arm tightly, the rest of his "dead" body remained motionless.

"_Is this an illusion? Humph.. Cowardly mages.. Always use tricks and flee when possible._" Dark-Heart thought, but surprisingly calm, you'd think that any ordinary commoner would freak out at the revival of dead people, but the Dark Brotherhood assassins are trained to comprehend unpredictable actions and to react accordingly. But.. This was more, one simply cannot resurrect one's self using one's own magicka, when the magicka is supposed to be gone with you... It's impossible, but, it's also paradoxical. Dark-Heart hid his shock and tried to develop a plan, but it was simply too late. The Breton released his grasp and returned to his eternal slumber.

At first nothing out of the ordinary happened. Dark-Heart was stunned, but he also guessed that this had to be an illusion, so, he was disinterested. He completed his contract, and earned the necessary bonus, so there is no use or any of his business to linger or delay any longer. Still, to some extent, this man did somewhat intrigue him, but he's dead, it's over with, end of story.

As the dark-scaled Argonian headed for the ladder to the first floor, he was abruptly forced to halt. He was unable to move, what was causing this? Dark-Heart struggled to regain control of his body, but it was no use. He tried to jerk his head to the left; no use.

"_Is... Is this another illusion?" _He began to panic, although panicking is frowned upon by the Dark Brotherhood, he had no choice, your average mage had either Fire, Frost, or Shock spells on his arsenal.

And at that, he found himself unconscious; even I do not know the cause of his sudden sleep.

During his unconsciousness his body glowed bright cyan just as the Breton once had, yet, the Breton lost his magicka, or, it should have been, so, who's can this be?

The Breton, Auravinc Othlin, deceased. Renowned, WAS renowned as Tamriel's most superior conjurer; surpassing Arch-Mage Traven and even the hero at the Battle of Bruma a decade ago. Although this cunning wizard was best out of the best, he didn't make it a mission to be popular as the rest, how do I know? Well... I know everything. His wizardry, he was a master of all arts, Restorative, Alterative, Destructive, Conjuration, Illusionary, you name it, he basically could perform any spell. It was to Dark-Heart's pleasure to relinquish him from existence.

Dark-Heart, attempting to rebel the power overwhelming his body, stopped glowing, whether this was the result of a successful resistance, or the failure of such, I do not know. I, on the other hand knowingly knew that he was fading, no tricks, no spells, it was reality. Eventually in a few minutes he faded into complete transparency; unable to be seen. Where did he go? That is a question to be solved later.

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

"Strange... Presence..." A seer commented on the vision clouding his mind.

...

30 Bennath, 169 on the continent of Gielinor laid this beautifully constructed village named 'Seer's Village.' It was peaceful, many seers rest upon the ivy gray-stoned walls, several fletchers reside here as well, it is the jack of all trees; figuratively speaking, of course. A dose of workers with their daily pick-up flax routine were present. Governed by the Seers' Council to deal with serious issues such as crimes, murder, and... Lizard-men on the roof of Camelot Castle?

True to my word there IS a certain lizard-man on the roof of Camelot Castle, many adventurers, curious workers, and elderly robed seers crowded the entrance gate to the castle, but Sir Lancelot was preventing their entry.

"Everything is under control! Please return to what you were previously doing!" As such, the horde a crowding him ignored his plead and weren't gullible enough to believe that everything was under management when Sir Pelleas was panicking.

The crowd was filled with armed mithril-plated warriors, red dragon-hided archers and blue robed wizards with that all classic pointy hat; we don't have those fashion trends on the Overside.

"Wait one second there lad!"


	2. Woah! HIM?

**Real life issues again... Hope to update more often! Also, here's a tip if you played any of the games; in RuneScape and Oblivion there may have been some quests done by other adventurers, not Dark-Heart, other quests may not even been started, I'll leave it to you to find out which quests were started in RuneScape and Oblivion. Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

"Wait one second there lad!" cried a familiar voice.

"Duke Horacio?"

"What's he doing here?"

"He left Lumbridge to come here?" The crowd was roaring with questions.

"Hold your questioning, lads, I'm here to assist the Knights of the Round Table."

"Of course sire, King Arthur has been expecting you." Sir Lancelot replied, however, with the energetic crowd, it was difficult to hear. Sir Lancelot barely paved entry to Duke Hocario; he was requested by King Arthur himself, but to what purpose? Others without proper authority were refused entry, eventually the numbers dwindled and Sir Lancelot was to remain on patrol.

"Evening Horacio of Lumbridge." greeted King Arthur; he sat upon his seat at the Round Table pondering. His dazzling crown rested on his tidy, auburn hair, it shone across the whole realm and reaching others. He wore rusty steel armor and his shield was leaning against his chair, it bore the emblem of Saradomin. Duke Horacio took a seat and calmly replied.

"I have arrived, as you requested, King Arthur." The monarchs had a conversation of pressing matters.

"As this is urgent, I will cut to thy point," The King displayed a monotone voice.

"Recently, a strange being popped and crashed on our castle, it is unconscious; however, we're keeping it under tight guard."

"Merlin is still frozen in a large crystal prison; he cannot assist us." King Arthur explained.

"Rumour spread that the being is a descendant of the fabled Dragonkin. And you, Horacio, have dealt with a dragon and manage an alliance with the underground cave goblins, can surely aid us."

"I see." The Duke of Lumbridge thought about it; he left his advisor in charge of Lumbridge until he settles things here. He examined the room, Sir Kay was guarding the main entry door along with Sir Lucan; they stood as a pillaring statue. One can come to the conclusion; Camelot Castle is well guarded, it was a wise decision to guard the mysterious being there.

For one, that 'being' is not a being, he's my Silencer. And two, your realm's Dragonkin are extinct, not just past folklore.

"I'll lend a hand." Horacio agreed and they shook hands across the table. King Arthur then escorted the Duke of Lumbridge to the secret room where they held Dark-Heart.

* * *

"Get your Black Horse Courier here!"

"Have a copy of the Black Horse Courier, it's the only way to get the real news! Feature story on Cyrodiil's greatest mage!"

_**SPECIAL EDITION!**_

_**AURAVINC OTHLIN FOUND DEAD IN THE IMPERIAL CITY!**_

_**Unknown Murderer.**_

_**by Ra'jiradh**_

_All of Cyrodiil suffers a terrible fate! Mage's Guild Master-Wizard Auravinc Othlin is found deceased in his home's basement at the Imperial City Elven Garden's district! Diaster struck last evening when the mage was studying at his favored place; his basement. It proved valuable to any researcher with extensive number of novels pretaining to any subject or topic._

_All members of the Arcane University commented on Othlin's usual behavior; visit the Chironasium, study alchemical ingredients at the Lustratorium, read at the Mystic Archives and practice magicks at the Practice Rooms. Renald Viernis, proctor of the practice rooms states that his agenda is your typical schedule to the average mage._

_Othlin's magicka were extended to contain almost any aspect of the magicka universe. He enchanted various weaponry, armor and tools with functional enchantments to travelers, merchants and adventurers. Also a master rank of all magick schools, however all of his expertise worn out as he died. Othlin's sibling, Jermina had this to say.._

_"My brother... I saw this coming... He wouldn't listen to me! I told him he was being stalked all over the province, I told him he was being spied on, he wouldn't listen! I wish... I wish I could see him again..."_

_Jermina Othlin now resides in the very place her brother was killed, she admitted to some of their secretive schemes. Jermina was former owner of All Things Alchemical in the market district, it is now closed due to long past counterfeit buyout by the Othlin siblings. Talk is around that she would of killed her own brother for the attention and renown, however, with the Imperial City today, cruel and twisted, it could of happened to anyone._

_Jermina is now being questioned by the Imperial City guard, some investigators justify that there are some leads to the Dark Brotherhood committing the deed, but that is cannot be backed with true evidence._

_With all the crime in the city, the mourners of the most famous mage in Cyrodiil history now dead, who can't help but wonder -- am I next?_

A bystander read the newspaper and discarded it. The street was filled with Orcs and Dunmer, the avenues were littered with purple-stone roofs and Dark Elven architecture. Governed by Count Andel Indarys of House Hlaalu, it's my home away from home, Cheydinhal. The craggy territory and the nature aroma of County Cheydinhal, it is where my beloved Dark Brotherhood reside.

In the Abandoned House in the castle walls of Cheydinhal lay the entrance to the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary, the head of this family is Ocheeva, she's been worried about the lack of Dark-Heart's return. Teineeva, Ocheeva's twin brother often comforts her, stating that it takes time to commit any assassination, although she cannot help but be concerned. Dark-Heart was a true comrade to the twins, having killed the traitor Scar-Tail and rescued Ocheeva from a kidnapper. The Argonian trio often assist each other, and mistakingly welcome Dark-Heart as a biological brother.

Despite all of this, my Listener is still in contact with me and resumes the procedure of assassination contracts. Moments later, the Argonian twins hear a disturbing thump; they reacted and looked in the direction of where it came from.

It was the Guardian Door.


	3. Let Time Unfold

**Woah... I didn't update for two months... Really sorry on that, I'm kind of focused on my other story and I haven't really played Oblivion in long, so, if anything is wrong, don't hesitate to drop a PM and help me correct!**

**Also, cheers for my first ever review! =)**

**Enjoy the 3rd!**

* * *

It was the Guardian Door. It stood like a night hawk, and just as its title, it guards the entrance to the Brotherhood, disallowing entry to any who are not aware of our access system. But to hear a thump on the door, it doesn't sound right; all members know to gently place your hand on the seal, not to timidly thump it. _Who are they? How'd they know we are here? _What everyone thought, nerve-racking, it could be a guard, or Lucien Lachance, or just possibly a new brother; they did not know.

It was silence at the sanctuary, all were focused on the Guardian Door, never this frightened before, for more than three decades have they've been in secrecy, and tonight might end that streak, if it were someone else than expected at the door. While overhearing a conversation they prepared themselves noiselessly, in case of an invasion, they were ready for anything. Of course, my people are trained in the cruelest and harshest matter possible without any complaints; they've dedicated their life to me before their births!

"Where are we Ulrich?"

"Shut up fool! You'll get us spotted!"

"Ulene, what do you know of this door?"

...

"**What is the color of Night...?**" Spoke the Guardian Door, demanding an answer with its fierce, rugged voice from below on the Overside. It spoke more frightening than a ghost. Most 'invaders' usually cower at the sight of The Door or fail to maintain their sanity the moment the Door seeks worthy entrees. This group, however, is unique, as far as my centuries of living, only a guard would contain the courage to stand the dark-enhanced tone or the blood-tainted corridor leading to the Hell-engulfed red glow surrounding the edges of The Door. Even so, it's impossible to disregard the reenactment of Hell creeping up upon you as a matter worth nothing. The group was a pack of three; an amateur Cheydinhal guard proudly displaying the emblem of House Hlaalu, Ulrich Leland, the famed guard captain who sets absurd taxes stating you'd have to pay 20 gold if you were drunk at Willow Banks and other simply ridiculous taxes, and Ulene Hlervu, the castle mage and cleric. An odd bunch, but nothing my assassins can't take down easily. However, what really bites my eternal mind is that WHY in all places would they be HERE? We've threatened and bribed Count Andel to shut his mouth on our existence, did he finally break and resist? Maybe there are some things that even an eternal spirit can never reveal about.

"Here goes, Ulene, you know the words, right?" A bewildered Ranolin requested, unsure on his whereabouts, he gripped his Silver Sword; the standard uniform weapon for town guards and prepared for entry.

"Sanquine my Brother." What's this...? They knew? That's treason...! Ulrich stood malapertly and Ulene was impudent with a sense of supremacy rushing through her. The fools! They don't know what or who they're dealing with, the instant The Door grants them access, the next they'll be annihilated from pure existence! This makes absolutely no sense, in order to know the key-words you must be strictly associated with us, anyone else wouldn't have a clue, and either two possibilities come before me. In my 631 years of eternal reign of the Brotherhood, only one calamity of this nature occurred; in Morrowind. If it's the same situation here, then that won't be a problem, they'll be dead before they have a chance to look at the faces of death!

Ocheeva, Teinaava, and the others stood alert, weapons drawn out, bows armed, and magic ready, prepare to surrender to the Night Mother, foolish fools!

"The Dark Brotherhood will face punishment!"

* * *

Duke Horacio stood near Dark-Heart, on the second floor, examining him thoroughly, every aspect of him was observed carefully. As the unconscious Argonian lay on the stone, firm bricks, Sir Palomedes was instructed to guard him; he was just a bit south from Dark-Heart, standing stiff as a soaring statue, as with all the other loyal Knights of the Round Table. Seeing as this was very unusual, and rather sudden, they took the opportunity to learn more about my Silencer.

"Very intriguing," Horacio mentioned with a tone of zealousness.

"It appears to be to some extent of a black dragon." He continued, unknowingly misconnected my ARGONIAN Silencer for a dragon. You must be oblivious if you cannot differentiate the gills of Dark-Heart to the lungs of a dragon of your realm. Another logical fact that even the royal family of Lumbridge cannot distinguish an Argonian to the dragons he previously fought on his adventures.

"If the rumours are correct, and the Dragon-kin are alive, this one might be related or even a direct descendant." He resumed his absurd speculation. Sigh... I have a task for Dark-Heart, and I cannot allow any obstacles to jump in his way. I'll warp to Gielinor if the possibility resorts to it!

"I will consult with Reldo and discover more about this subject. I will return with a messenger if anything pops." They exchanged farewells and the exquisite-dressed duke exited the Castle.

After Duke Horacio departed with his steel-armored protective bodyguard to return to Castle Lum in Lumbridge, King Arthur sent word to the Seer's Council situated in the Seer's Village. He requested from his note the following...

_To Council of Seers,_

_Thou probably acknowledged thy rumours of the black dragon / human individual. However, partially of the rumours are inaccurate. There are no traces of a direct assault. The being was thoroughly searched and was equipped with dark black leather surrounding most of its body, it most likely wielded the two black and golden daggers; one of them are missing. Though of the creature's unconsciousness, we will not let our guard down, we have overcome many strange events, and this shan't be the last. We leave the task for you to decide if the appearance of such individual is an attack or not, if you wish of any other measures toward the being, do not hesitate to contact me. We will guard the being with utmost efficiency. _

_May your path reveal to thee,_

_King Arthur_

The Council of Seers reside two stories above the bank of Seer's Village, as King Arthur realized the short walking distance, he sent an off-duty knight to deliver the message. He thought that the Council of Seers would arrange for a trial to be held in the courtroom, although that would be injudicious as Dark-Heart would attack and flee, pertaining to my task, which is most relevant at the time than a prejudice-influenced court of law. As of current standings I shall ready a raid however I'd befallen unwise deaths to my loyal invaders. It takes more than just a diminutive sum of the beloved Night Mother's energy to transport my followers to any other realm.

My turn is up. Now... Let time unfold itself... And play its cards.


End file.
